


Love's Labors Lost

by enigmaticblue



Series: Second Childhood [13]
Category: Angel: the Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 09:28:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12702063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: Spike should probably make popcorn.





	Love's Labors Lost

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, hey, look! It’s fic, because I have a de-aged prompt for hc_bingo and why not? And yes, title from the Shakespeare play, but technically misspelled because I’m an American.

“And when I specifically asked, ‘Dawn, is this your attempt to set me up with your friend, because if so, I don’t want to go,’ and _you_ said, ‘No, of course not, Wes, I’d never do that to you,’ what was that?” Wesley demands as he stalks into their apartment. “Oh, right, that was your utter betrayal!”

 

“No, that was me being honest, because I wasn’t trying to set you up,” Dawn protests. “That was Brook telling me that she thought you were really hot, and asking me if you were single. And when I said you were single, she asked if I’d invite you along so she could get to know you.”

 

Wesley rounds on her. “Otherwise known as setting me up!”

 

“She’s nice, she’s cute,” Dawn protests. “You’re nice and you’re cute—at least she thinks so. She thinks the archery thing is hot, and she’s, like, 20. What is your problem?”

 

“My problem is that I asked if you were setting me up and you lied!” Wesley retorts.

 

Spike really should make popcorn. Dawn and Wesley rarely fight, and they _never_ fight like this. In the five years they’ve lived together, he can count on one hand the number of real disagreements they’ve had, and Spike has always loved high drama.

 

This counts.

 

“You told me that you wanted to get laid!” Dawn protests. “Forgive me for helping you out!”

 

“I never said that!”

 

“You went to a gay bar and exchanged hand jobs with a guy you didn’t know!” Dawn snaps.

 

Wesley throws his hands up in the air. “Yes! I did! I wanted to get my rocks off, and relationships are complicated, and I don’t want to deal with one! I told you because you poked at me!”

 

“I thought you might like her!”

 

“She’s an airhead!”

 

“She’s my friend!”

 

“Then your friend is an airhead who giggled all over me for nearly an hour,” Wesley snarls. “We have nothing in common, she knows nothing about my life, and I specifically asked you not to do this!”

 

“You don’t have to be such a dick about it!”

 

“I asked politely for you not to set me up! You don’t have to be a homophobe! Just because I picked up a guy in a bar—”

 

“I’m bi, you fucking asshole!”

 

Spike clears his throat from his reclined position on the couch. He’s reading a book, and he has his soaps on silent with closed captions on. Never let it be said that he can’t multi-task. “I need blood. Dawn, would you mind?”

 

“We just picked some up the other day,” Dawn protests.

 

“I was hungry, so I drank it,” Spike replies. “Thanks. There’s money on the counter.”

 

He can see Dawn working up a protest and adds, “Maybe you want to call David, have him take you out to dinner.”

 

“It’s Davis,” Dawn says.

 

“Him, too,” Spike replies.

 

Dawn snorts and rolls her eyes. “Great. Take Wes’ side.”

 

“I wasn’t aware there were sides,” Spike replies. “Although I’ll admit that I’ve grown used to _not_ living in a war zone.”

 

“Whatever,” Dawn snaps. “I’ll see you later.”

 

She pointedly doesn’t say anything to Wesley as she leaves, and he slumps on the recliner. “I never should have told her about the bar.”

 

Spike studies him for a minute. In the last five years, Wesley has grown up considerably—physically at least, since he’s still the same person Spike first met. He’s tall and lanky now, but still has a bit of a baby face with his smooth cheeks.

 

He’s a good-looking bloke, though, and Spike can understand why one of Dawn’s friends wangled an introduction.

 

“Don’t say it,” Wesley warns. “I asked her not to set me up, and she did. That’s on her.”

 

“A one night stand in a bar?” Spike counters. “I want to know how you managed that.”

 

Wesley shoots him a sardonic look. “I’m well versed in living with a vampire, remember? After that one time Angel sniffed out that I had a date, I wasn’t going to let it happen again.”

 

“ID?”

 

“What, you think I’m incapable of finding fake ID?” Wesley asks. “And yes, I could have asked you, but I didn’t, so let’s drop it.”

 

Spike stares at the TV and waits him out.

 

“She’s 20.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Dawn’s friend,” Wesley replies. “Who else?”

 

“You’re 18. Ish,” Spike counters. “She’s legal, you’re legal. What’s the problem?”

 

“The problem is that I’ve been working on some goal the last—20 years or so,” Wesley replies, building up a head of steam. “I look 18, but I’m closer to 40. I studied to be a Watcher, I’ve faced Hell Gods and demons, and I’ve been cursed. I’m probably within ten years of taking over as the head of a major coven. I’ve been to the Junior Olympics—twice!—and I haven’t had time for anything else. She nattered on about some band and a television show, and I hadn’t a clue as to what she was talking about. At least the guy at the bar didn’t want to make small talk.”

 

Spike nods. “Birds or blokes?”

 

Wesley appears startled, and then he shrugs. “Girls, but one of the guys from my Latin class invited me out for a drink, and it led to mutual orgasms without any strings.”

 

“So, what was wrong with this Brook person?”

 

“She’s 20, Spike,” Wesley replies. “She’s a young 20. She’s very pretty, yes, and very sweet, but she’s never so much as seen a dead body.”

 

“That’s probably a good basic requirement for a relationship,” Spike admits. “Given our line of work.”

 

“And, yes, I’ll likely need to reproduce to pass on the family legacy eventually, my age bracket consists of one person—me,” Wesley adds. “The only people who look at me and see _me_ are you, Dawn, my aunt, Aggie, and the rest of the coven, and the next oldest person to Dawn is 30 and I believe she’s not terribly interested in people. She said she was asexual but panromantic, whatever that means.”

 

Spike would bet money that Wesley knows exactly what that means because he’d searched the internet as soon as he could for the term. This _is_ Wesley.

 

“I think you’re overlooking something,” Spike says.

 

Wes raises his eyebrows. “Do tell.”

 

“Me,” Spike says simply, doing that thing with his tongue he knows drives people—mostly women—crazy.

 

He’s only half-kidding. Wesley is attractive, and he’s never treated Spike as anything other than a person. Plus, if Spike is the one involved, there’s no risk to him, and Spike takes his responsibilities very seriously.

 

Wesley flushes and looks away, and Spike can see the flash of raw need on his face, quickly banked. “Dawn would kill us.”

 

“Dawn wouldn’t have to know,” Spike says. “I’m just saying, if you’re feeling a need to go out and pick someone up, maybe let me know. It would be safer.”

 

Wesley laughs. “For you, maybe, not for me.”

 

Spike blinks. “Wes…”

 

“I’m not saying anything,” Wes says hastily. “It’s just that it wouldn’t be casual for me, or I don’t think it could be.”

 

Spike understands that feeling well, and he nods. “Well, if you change your mind…”

 

“Do me a favor, and tell Dawn to lay off,” Wes replies. “Because I don’t think I can be entirely objective.”

 

Spike nods. “Of course.”

 

“I’m going for a run,” Wes says. “But Spike—if I thought I could keep my head, I’d take you up on that offer.”

 

And Spike wonders when he’d become the peacemaker.

 

~~~~~

 

Dawn slams back into the apartment, fully intent on continuing her argument with Wesley, determined to redress the insult to her friend.

 

To her disappointment, but not surprise, Wesley isn’t there when she gets back, although Spike is still on the couch. That’s also not a surprise, considering that’s where he tends to park himself if not sleeping, especially if he wants to catch one of them.

 

“I got your blood,” she says, sliding the tubs into the fridge, noting the full tub that’s already in there. “And you didn’t drink it all.”

 

“You and I both know I sent you out for blood to prevent bloodshed,” Spike returns placidly.

 

Dawn sighs. “I’m not homophobic.”

 

“I’m aware,” Spike replies, not arguing with her.

 

Dawn sighs. “Okay, I’m probably being overprotective. Wes gave up so much for me, and I just want him to be happy.”

 

“Just because you’re in a relationship, and you’re happy with David—”

 

“ _Davis_ ,” Dawn corrects, knowing he’s taking the piss, as he or Wesley would say.

 

“Him, too,” Spike replies with a smirk. “Wes has a lot on his plate, and he doesn’t prioritize being in a relationship.”

 

“But he wants one!” Dawn protests.

 

Spike gives her an unimpressed look. “No, he wants to get laid. And if he wants a relationship, he’s going to have a hard time finding a peer for obvious reasons, and that’s what he wants. You surreptitiously setting him up doesn’t do either of you any favors.”

 

Dawn collapses on the chair. “I know. Don’t tell Wes, but it wasn’t really about him, although I kind of hoped he’d hit it off with Brook.”

 

Spike lifts an eyebrow. “Oh?”

 

“She kept _bugging me_ ,” Dawn admits. “Incessantly. I was kind of hoping that Wes would be a jerk, and she’d lay off.”

 

“I take it that backfired,” Spike replies.

 

Dawn rolls her eyes. “He had to be all polite and British, which means she probably thinks he likes her.”

 

“Tell her he’s confused about his sexuality, and she doesn’t want to be his training wheels,” Spike advises.

 

Dawn blinks at him. “That’s actually good advice.”

 

“You don’t have to sound so surprised,” Spike snaps.

 

“I wasn’t!” Dawn protests, although she kind of is.

 

“Wes is a 40-year-old man in a kid’s body, who has a lot on his plate,” Spike replies. “Just because you aren’t into casual sex doesn’t mean he can’t be.”

 

Dawn grimaces, acknowledging that’s part of her discomfort. “Okay, fair point. I’ll back off.”

 

Spike nods. “Good call.”

 

“And I’ll apologize for setting him up and kind of lying about it,” Dawn adds. “Because he was right that I shouldn’t have lied.”

 

“Tell him that,” Spike replies, levering himself up off the couch. “I have a date.”

 

Dawn raises her eyebrows. “Like a real date?”

 

“No, a date with a nest of vampires,” Spike replies. “I need a spot of violence before bedtime.”

 

“You sleep all day,” Dawn objects.

 

“Yeah, and I’ll be out all night,” Spike says. “Don’t get into any trouble.”

 

“I think that’s you,” Dawn replies.

 

Spike offers a jaunty little wave.

 

“That was sarcasm, which my literature professor believes is the refuge of little minds!” Dawn calls out.

 

Spike smirks. “I hope you told them that you were a member of the small minds club.”

 

“Touché,” Dawn replies.

 

She really hates having to apologize, but at least Spike is gone, which leaves her without an audience.

 

~~~~~

 

A long run helps Wesley clear his head, so if he sees Dawn, he won’t snap again. He knows she’s just trying to help, but he would really like everybody to stay out of his love life.

 

Or lack thereof.

 

He grabs a towel from the bathroom and checks the fridge for something to eat, a little disappointed when he realizes that someone ate the leftover pizza.

 

“I can call for Chinese,” Dawn offers. “I owe you after ruining your lunch.”

 

“I accept apologies delivered by crab rangoon,” Wesley replies, grabbing a bottle of water.

 

Dawn winces. “Okay, I’m sorry I lied about setting you up, but Brook begged me. A lot.”

 

“So, you betrayed your blood oath because your friend begged you to set up your cousin,” Wesley replies.

 

“I wouldn’t call it a betrayal,” Dawn says.

 

Wesley gives her a look. “I would.”

 

She sighs. “I’m sorry. At the very least, I should have given you a heads up.”

 

“Thank you for the apology,” Wesley replies. “I accept.”

 

Dawn hesitates. “And I’m really sorry if you thought I was being a homophobe.”

 

Wesley rolls his eyes. “I know it wasn’t about me exchanging hand jobs with a guy, but that it was a casual hookup. I’m not stupid.”

 

“I never said you were,” Dawn protests.

 

Wesley gives her a look. “No, but you thought I wouldn’t notice you setting me up.”

 

“I…kind of hoped that you’d be pissed off and therefore incredibly rude to her, and she’d get over her crush on you,” Dawn admits.

 

Wesley blinks at her. “I’m sorry, but have you _met me_?”

 

“In hindsight, it would have been a better plan if I’d _told_ you about the plan,” she says.

 

Wesley shakes his head. “Look, I’ve had one serious relationship that lasted any length of time. Someday, hopefully, I’ll find someone, but I’m not really in a hurry. I have too much on my plate for anything other than casual hookups right now.”

 

“So, are you still mad?” Dawn asks.

 

“Well, I’m not going to trust your lunch invitations any time soon, but no, I’m not mad,” Wesley replies. “Just don’t do it again, all right? Not without checking with me first.”

 

“Deal,” Dawn replies. “I’ll call for Chinese.”

 

Wesley pauses at the door to the bathroom. “Thanks, though.”

 

Dawn glances at him. “For what?”

 

“Looking out for me,” he says. “I know you were trying to help.”

 

She smiles. “That’s what I’m here for.”

 

And really, Wesley has everything he needs for the moment.


End file.
